


Into The Unknown

by icewhisper



Series: A Slytherin, A Hufflepuff, And A Ravenclaw Walk Into A Bar [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Harry Potter AU, Roy and Gracia are siblings and you can't take that headcanon away from me, let's send the babies to hogwarts, pry it from my cold dead fingers, they're just babies right now, this may be the most wholesome thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23201065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icewhisper/pseuds/icewhisper
Summary: Centuries ago, a pocket dimension was created and, then, forgotten. For most kids on the Amestrian side of the barrier, magic has faded from their blood and their memories. Some of them, though? Some of them still get letters.
Relationships: Gracia Hughes & Maes Hughes, Gracia Hughes & Maes Hughes & Roy Mustang, Gracia Hughes & Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes & Roy Mustang
Series: A Slytherin, A Hufflepuff, And A Ravenclaw Walk Into A Bar [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668034
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54





	Into The Unknown

Gracia clung to his arm, wide-eyed and excited as they made their way through the barrier – honest to god  _ barrier  _ – that involved them walking through a  _ wall _ . "Roy, look at the train!"

"I see it," he told her dazedly as Aunt Chris gave them both a little push. He should have been more used to the idea, he thought. He'd had a month to adjust to the revelation that he was, apparently, a wizard, but he was also pretty sure he'd been in a consistent state of shock since the skinny man in robes had stepped into the bar with an offended sniff and a letter each for him and Gracia.

His sister had barely stopped chattering on about it since they'd gotten the news. She'd read  _ Hogwarts: A History _ twice already and he suspected she was on her third reread of  _ Amestris: The Land The World Forgot _ . She'd read each one aloud to him at least once. The third time she reread the section about Hogwarts houses and Fuhrer Pendragon, he'd zoned out.

"Master Hawkeye," he bemoaned to his aunt again when they reached the train and had passed their trunks off to the man who would load them on.

His aunt smacked him upside the head, tender woman that she was. "He's aware of this," she told him for what he knew was probably the thousandth time. "You have your alchemy books. Study them between the rest of your homework and he  _ may _ take you on as a summer student. You know the rules."

"No alchemy until I'm thirteen," he repeated dutifully, if a little bitterly. No alchemy until he was thirteen. No prostitution until he – or Gracia, if she felt like it – were eighteen. At least she was still letting him bartend when they were home for school breaks.

She made a noise of agreement as Gracia finally released his arm so she could hug her mother one last time. "You're lucky," his aunt added. "That man didn't even want to  _ consider _ a student under sixteen."

"That's five  _ years _ ."

His aunt flicked him again. "And if your grades drop because you're spending too much time with alchemy books, you won't be learning under him at all."

"I know," he grumbled, because he  _ knew _ , okay? They'd had the whole discussion – more like negotiation – when the awe of  _ magic _ had worn off and he realized he'd be spending months outside of what was apparently a  _ pocket dimension _ . Months that would keep him away from alchemy books and the libraries that he'd been obsessing over since he was a kid and Gracia's mother had shown up at the bar for a job and Roy saw the rusted alchemist's watch in her bag.

She was the one who had pointed them towards Master Hawkeye in the first place with promises that he was a brilliant alchemist and she was sorry, but she didn't use alchemy herself anymore.

She didn't talk about why, but they all knew that watch with its shattered face was always on Caterina's nightstand.

Gracia darted around him to hug Aunt Chris as her own mother pulled him against her chest.

"You take care of each other," Caterina ordered. She pulled back and smoothed down his hair. "The train is going to take you through the barrier and to King's Cross in London. Platform 2⅓. You need to get to 9¾, but you're going to need to handle your own luggage. They don't take it for you there."

He nodded, even though they'd already been over all this. The man who had brought their letters had detailed the whole process and left instructions at the same time he'd left them with a set of translation charms. The English they spoke over there, apparently, wasn't too far off from Amestrian, but if Roy wanted to speak Xingese or Gracia wanted to speak in her father's Drachman, they'd have a problem. The charms – little pins they'd have to keep attached to their school ties until they learned to cast proper translation charms on themselves – would at least help them with the Latin spells were based in. Their professors would need to help with any written translations.

"You'll watch out for her?" Caterina asked again, voice softer, as she stared at where Gracia had stopped hugging Aunt Chris and was back to staring wide-eyed at the train.

He nodded, serious. "I will," he promised and wrinkled his nose when Caterina kissed his cheek.

"Get over here, Roy-Boy," his aunt said as Caterina pushed him from her arms and towards his aunt's. He hugged the woman back, suddenly a little scared. He hadn't left his aunt since she brought him with her from Xing. He clung to her, inhaled the scent of her perfume and cigarettes, and closed his eyes as she murmured to him softly in Xingese. She still stumbled over it, but the attempt made him smile, same as it had when he'd been six, newly orphaned, and in a country with a language he couldn't speak.

She pulled back when the conductor yelled a warning and shooed him off as if her eyes weren't a little glassy. He gave her the out as Gracia snatched his hand and tugged him with her.

"They have a break for some Christmas holiday!" Roy called out a reminder his aunt didn't need, but it made her crack a smile. "You hear that, Madame? You've got a  _ holiday _ !"

"Isn't there a fat man involved in it?" Gracia asked, because even if she was excited about their new school, she was also, according to her mom and Aunt Chris, a little shit.

"I heard that!" Aunt Chris yelled after them and they scrambled up onto the train, laughing.

The train was quiet, filled with a few merchants who did business on either side of the barrier and a couple military officials that handled the political standings between the worlds. Gracia tugged him past them and the knowing looks the soldiers were giving them, right down towards the end of the train car where another boy was already sitting. Messy dark hair. Glasses. 

He looked up, surprised, at their approach, before it gave way to a big grin. "Are you more wizards?"

Gracia nodded and slid into the seat across from him. Roy followed after her. "Hogwarts," she confirmed. "You?"

"Same," he said brightly and held out his hand. "Maes Hughes."

"Gracia Wagner," his sister said as she took his hand. "This is my brother, Roy."

Maes looked between them, a little confused, but he didn't actually point out that the two of them looked nothing alike. Between the slant of his eyes and the more olive tone to his skin, he looked more foreign than she did with her Drachman green eyes, more vibrant than the duller hazel Maes had.

"Who can introduce myself," he said, taking pity on Maes. "Roy Mustang." He didn't explain their relation – that Gracia was his sister, but so was her mother – because explaining  _ that _ meant explaining the rest of his family and the gaggle of sisters they'd left at home. Not out of shame, he knew, because he loved every last one of them and was proud of them, but it was a  _ long _ conversation every time.

"Are you guys both…" Maes trailed off, thinking. "Muggleborns? Was that it?"

"That's it," Gracia assured him. "I am."

"What did the guy say I was?" Roy asked her. "A skipped something."

"Skipped legacy," she told him with an eye roll she hadn't given Maes when he hadn't been sure of the term. He poked her in retaliation and she smacked his arm. "Your mom's family had wizards before, but it skips generations."

"Yeah. That," he said without interest. The books Gracia had been sleeping with –  _ literally  _ sleeping with – had toted something about blood status on the wizard side of the barrier that made his skin crawl.

"Cool," Maes said with a little more interest. "Does your mom know how far back it goes?"

"I don't know," he said with a grimace that wasn't really Maes' fault. The boy hadn't known. "We were living in Xing when the virus spread."

Maes' eyes went wide in horror. "I'm sorry!" he yelped. "I didn't know. I mean, I didn't think-"

"It's fine," he said and gave the other boy a little smile.

Maes still looked guilty, but he nodded. "I'm muggleborn," he offered. "My mom fainted when this guy showed up and told us."

"Skinny guy?" he asked curiously. "Weird robes?"

"Yeah! Professor Truman, I think?"

"He teaches Herbology," Gracia added, because  _ she _ apparently remembered the conversation whereas Roy had more or less blacked out around the time he read  _ school of witchcraft and wizardry _ and came to again around the time the odd man had been talking about first Fuhrer Pendragon apparently being a freaking  _ wizard _ .

And an alchemist, but they’d  _ known _ that part. That part was common knowledge. The wizard part was still what made his head spin.

“I did a lot of reading, too,” Gracia started and Roy shot Maes a wide-eyed look.

“Stop her,” he warned the boy. “If you don’t, she’s going to talk from here to London about everything she’s read.”

Gracia smacked his arm. “Hey!”

“No! I want to know!” Maes insisted, because Maes was obviously  _ insane _ . Still, it made Gracia’s eyes light up and she leaned forward like she wanted to dive right across the gap to sit next to Maes instead. Roy gave her a push to do just that and, then, took the rest of the bench for himself. “I didn’t get to do a lot of reading and the professor that came seemed kind of...frazzled. He just gave my parents the basics and let me try his wand.” He grinned brightly. “I blew up a vase my aunt gave my mom. She was so happy about it. She really hated that vase.”

Roy snorted as Gracia giggled and he reached into his bag to pull out both his alchemy book and the history book he’d known Gracia would want to look at again. She snatched it from him with a quick  _ thanks _ .

“The first Fuhrer,” she explained, “Arthur Pendragon was a wizard, but he’d begun to lean more towards alchemy than magic. Muggles can do alchemy, too.” She blushed, probably embarrassed that she’d told Maes something glaringly obvious. “But muggles and wizards were separate. There wasn’t a law back then like there is now, but everyone knew you weren’t supposed to tell muggles about magic. The people that did, it led to a lot of witch trials.”

Roy flipped his book open to reread the chapter about base designs for transmutation circles.

“The Fuhrer wanted there to be somewhere safe for anybody to practice alchemy.” One glance up from his book told him Maes was staring at Gracia like she was the most amazing thing he’d seen. He looked back down so he wouldn’t gag. “So he and his advisor, Merlin, decided to create a pocket dimension – Amestris. The door was left open for people to move back and forth, so a lot of people immigrated and more countries formed, but when Fuhrer Pendragon died, Merlin condensed the opening down to what we’re going through now.”

He glanced up towards the window, curious, and his eyes widened at the same time Maes and Gracia let out noises of excitement. There was something  _ shimmering _ out there. Hazy images of the trees were warping, sideways at first and, then, twisting up into wavy spirals that made his eyes hurt. 

"Woah," Maes breathed off to his side as Gracia scrambled off the bench to get a closer look.

"It's magic," she said, still sounding a little like she couldn't believe it. As if she hadn't been sustaining herself on magical history books since Professor Truman had come into the bar with their letters. "Roy, that's not alchemy! It's-"

"I know," he murmured. That  _ definitely  _ wasn't alchemical discharge. Alchemy – the little bit he'd tried on his own that Aunt Chris was  _ never _ going to know about – felt like tingles up his arms, but this… Something in his chest loosened and it didn't feel like home – home was the bar with his aunt, his sisters, and the regulars that cycled through – but it felt  _ right _ .

They spent much of the remaining ride staring out the window in fascination as the shimmer gave way to scenery they didn’t know. The buildings they could see in the distance were odd. The land stretched out around them was unfamiliar.

“I grew up in Central,” Maes admitted at one point when he’d pointed at a cow wildly and Gracia had giggled. “I haven’t seen this much open space before.”

“We used to live in Pendleton,” Gracia offered, “in the west. It looked a bit like this.” She leaned out the window a little more, head pillowed on folded arms as the wind whipped her hair. “My dad had immigrated from Drachma. A lot of people settled there after they moved over. It’s how he met my mom; she was stationed out there.”

“State alchemist,” Roy explained. “She’s retired.”

“After he died, we moved around a lot until my mom found Aunt Chris.”

“My aunt,” Roy said. “She got me from Xing after my parents died.” He still wasn’t entirely sure the papers she’d used to get him into Amestris were  _ legal _ . It was entirely possible she’d had something forged or some immigration official was a client at the bar who owed her a favor. He’d never really bothered to ask, but things had been in order when they had to make their way to Xing to catch the train.

“I’m sorry,” Maes said softly. He sounded guilty. “I keep putting my foot in it.”

“It’s fine.” Gracia pulled herself from the window. “We don’t mind talking about them.”

Maes nodded slowly, but he still looked between them uneasily for a minute, nervously picking at the skin around a thumb nail. “Could you tell me some more?” he asked uncertainly, but Gracia’s eyes lit up and she nodded, hands scrambling to flip to a certain spot in her book.

“Did you know the muggles have their own legends about Merlin and Fuhrer Pendragon?” she asked, but it was more rhetoric than anything as she plowed on. “They call the Fuhrer King Arthur. There’s a whole legend about a sword in a stone that’s weird, but his alchemy  _ had _ specialized in metals.”

“They got the bare minimum right,” Roy snorted as he turned back to his own book, “and that’s being generous.”

“Shush. You don’t even care about the legends.”

“I’m still trying to figure out if you can have a stroke at eleven.”

“Ignore him,” Gracia told Maes. “I do.”

Roy stuck his tongue out at her.

They talked through the rest of the ride as Gracia showed Maes sections in her book and Roy flipped through his own, scrawling messy transmutation circles onto paper until he fell asleep on top of a chapter about the finer points of equivalent exchange.

He mostly fell off the bench when the train stuttered to a stop and hit the floor to the chorus of Gracia and Maes’ laughter.

He glared at them both, but unlike his evil sister, Maes held out a hand to help him back up, so the boy clearly wasn’t completely irredeemable.

Gracia checked her watch. “We only have twenty minutes to get our trunks and make it to platform 9¾. We should hurry.”

  
  


They made it with two minutes to spare, gasping for breath as they each struggled to control the lunky carts they’d hefted each of their trunks onto. Idly, Roy thought they were lucky none of them were bringing a pet along. The poor thing probably would have toppled right off the haphazardly balanced trunks and been left behind in their rush.

They barely took the time to marvel at the train – it was so much  _ bigger _ than the one that had taken them past the barrier and the ones that moved between cities back home – or the big Hogwarts crest on it as they struggled to get their trunks onto the train and, then, into an empty compartment. There were some other kids and families still scrambling on the platform, so they weren’t the last ones to arrive, but they knew they’d cut it close.

Maes dropped down on the bench beside him this time, grinning as he yanked off his glasses so he could clean them on the hem of his shirt. Considering the way he grimaced after he put them back on and did it again, Roy was pretty sure the first attempt had just made it worse.

“We just ran through  _ walls _ ,” Maes said, still sounding awed, “and no one saw us.”

“There’s an illusion around the entrance area,” Gracia explained. “At least, that’s what  _ Hogwarts: A History _ says. It won’t let you through if you’re not magical, but I’m not sure how it works to allow muggleborns’ parents to come through.” She frowned, contemplative, and Roy bit back a groan. “It would make sense if being with the magical child got them  _ onto  _ the platform, but they must be able to leave it after. And you’d think they’d be able to cross over themselves to meet their kids when they come back from school…”

“She’s not talking to us anymore,” Roy told Maes as Gracia began to madly flip through the book she’d grabbed from her trunk before they’d hefted it up to the racks above them. Roy was sure there must be some kind of magic keeping their trunks from flying off, because there was no way they should actually  _ fit _ securely, but he wasn’t about to ask Gracia. Once her tongue was poking out the corner of her mouth and her nose was three inches from her book, he knew she was past communicating with. “We’re not getting her attention again until we get to school or she finds her answer.”

“You don’t think she will?” Maes asked curiously.

“I think she’s read that book four times, at  _ least _ , and if there was an answer in there, she’d remember it.” He rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond. “You know how to play poker?”

Maes, in fact, did  _ not _ know how to play poker.

Roy was up 1700 cenz an hour later when a young girl slid the compartment door open with all the wide-eyed excitement of someone’s first real job. “Anything off the trolley?” she asked.

Roy kicked Gracia’s foot lightly to try and catch her attention, but she waved him off and he and Maes went to ogle the candy without her. It wasn’t any kind of candy he’d ever seen before. The wrappers were different, some with moving figures on the paper, and he found himself wondering if they got offended when people tore them open and left them crumpled on the floor.

“Muggleborns?” she asked kindly when they both kept gaping at the display.

“Amestrian,” he corrected lightly, though she hadn’t been entirely wrong either.

“Of course we get barrier kids the year after I graduate,” she laughed. “Here, these are the good ones.” She pointed out her favorites and, then, added a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans that she insisted were a rite of passage for all wizards. Maes seemed skeptical that they had  _ every _ flavor, but Roy was more curious about the Chocolate Frogs and the trading cards she’d mentioned.

She  _ hadn’t _ mentioned that the stupid things  _ jumped _ and the screech Roy let out was enough to make Gracia look up from her book.

Maes laughed so hard, he had to wipe his eyes after so he could tear into the box of jelly beans. He grimaced almost immediately and spit it back into his hand. “ _ That _ ,” he said with some disgust, “was definitely vomit.”

“Karma,” Roy teased as Gracia cautiously took one.

He got grass.

Gracia, demon that she was, got strawberry.

  
  


They stuck close when they got off the train, lost in a sea of fellow first years while a man in navy robes and red hair braided down his back called them to him with a sharp whistle and a lantern held high over his head. He introduced himself as Professor Weasley as he loaded them into boats, but Roy missed hearing him say what class he taught and he had to ask when Gracia sat down beside him.

“Muggle Studies,” she told him. “It’s an elective you can take in third year.”

He hummed, disinterested already. He was sure muggles on this side of the barrier lived differently from the people back home, but he wasn’t especially interested in learning how they took their coffee.

He stopped caring about an elective that wouldn’t matter for another two years when the castle came into view. Maes let out a soft  _ woah _ behind him and he echoed it.

It was still wholly possible he’d had a stroke at eleven and this was all some kind of strange hallucination, but he’d never been the most creative, artistically. No way his brain could just dream up something like this.

“We’re actually at a magic school,” he said, dazed, when Professor Weasley shuffled them inside and started in on some speech about the house system. The ghost of a sad woman drifted straight through Gracia and she yelped, jumping closer to him and Maes. He hugged her to him, but his eyes kept staring at the portraits and the figures that disappeared from one frame to another.

“Yeah,” Maes agreed and turned to them with a wide smile, “we really are.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> And so begins the HP AU. It's mostly just going to be a series of one-shots within the same universe so that I'm not limited to a single timeline or the need to write a whole goddamn academic year. Right now, I know about as much of what's coming as you do, so let's see where the hell this ride takes us.


End file.
